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"So how's it work?"
Saitama thinks it's a damn good question, considering he's looking at a raised metal plate where Genos' dick would be. He spends a decent amount of time poking at the guy, and plating generally means 'no sensation'. He strokes it with the back of his fingers and gets no reaction.
"The plating is to protect the circuitry during combat. You have to remove it properly or the underlying structure won't carry a current to the artificial nerves. It prevents..." Genos' face twitches, his equivalent of a grimace. "Groin shots."
"Helpful," Saitama says, nodding. Sonic should really invest in something like that.
"There's a button at the base of the plate that releases it and, ah. Completes the circuit."
Wait a minute.
"Are you telling me I have to literally turn you on before I can get you off?"
Saitama knows Genos well enough to be able to tell when he's embarrassed. He is right now, for example. Probably because Saitama is snickering, but that's hardly his fault. He wasn't the one who gave Genos an on/off button.
"I. Yes, you could say that..."
"Can I try it?" Saitama asks, eyeing Genos' crotch in search of the illusive sex button. It can't be any harder than finding a clitoris, right?
"Sensei, you should know that I don't expect--"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's cool, I want to."
Saitama is pretty sure 'poking at your lover's junk' hardly counts as charity, especially after receiving a truly fantastic blowjob. He still feels tingly, the least he can do is try to give Genos an orgasm.
"Then... Yes. Go ahead."
The button is easy enough to find, and it's a little alarming how quickly the plating pops off. Genos sighs and shifts as it falls away, which means the circuits probably connected.
Saitama was expecting some kind of robo-cock. Instead, the wiring is covered by smooth, pliable silicone. It's clear, so he can see the mechanical parts through it. It doesn't look much like a sex organ at all.
But it isn't gross or anything, so Saitama reaches out to touch it. Genos goes completely still and the soft whirring in his chest picks up a notch.
"Good?"
Genos nods, his jaw tight. Saitama presses his thumb into the silicone, feeling it give very slightly in spite of how careful he's being. He glances up to check if that hurt. Genos' face is pinched in concentration, but there's no sign of pain. So Saitama does it again, pressing down and stroking along the length of it.
The whirring gets louder and Genos gasps, the servos in his hips creaking as they twitch. This is officially the best 3 inches of polymer and wire ever.
"Can you come?" Saitama asks, drawing little circles with his thumb. Genos is squirming more the longer he keeps going, breathing out steam. It might be cruel to keep going if he can't finish.
"If you-- I'm going to--"
That is both the least coherent Saitama has ever heard him and definitely a yes. He applies a little more pressure on the next stroke and the whirring machinery roars. Genos groans when he comes, ripping holes in the futon with his hands.
To his credit, Saitama doesn't freak out about having to replace the blankets until after the post-coital cuddling.